


hearts (and other black holes)

by blaksy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxious Keith (Voltron), Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), a lot of anxiety and thoughts, hunk and lance study art, keith and pidge study architecture, pidge is a boy and he’s keith’s roommate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 22:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blaksy/pseuds/blaksy
Summary: when he turns nineteen, he falls in love.okay, scratch that – he's not sure what love is. but this doesn't stop him from trying to understand, because it feels different from all the books he's read and everything he's heard from anyone else.–in which the sun never knew how great it was until it hit the side of a building.





	hearts (and other black holes)

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i have ever written besides english essays (they’re <2500 words anyway) and i’m really proud. it’s probably full of mistakes since i’m not a native speaker so i’m sorry in advance!! i started this at the beginning of my architecture journey (even tho i still have to finish school and then take the big exam) aka almost one year ago but then i would kinda leave hw to write gay fanfiction.
> 
> tw: his consists of a lot of anxiety monologues as this story has been somehow a journal.
> 
> the title is from jasmine warga’s book which i totally recommend bc i couldn’t put it down even on the new year’s eve. [these](https://open.spotify.com/user/cigaretted/playlist/0iSZ1jzqfioq7FqojC4Lj4?si=k0cfEPDeTv6uZX_M5f50Fg) are the songs that give me the vibe of the story.

when he was eleven, his parents passed away in a car accident. in that car crash, a piece of his heart died too.

one of the things he learnt when he moved  from one family to another was that hearts doesn't necessarily break in the middle. whoever told him that clearly didn't know what he was talking about. his heart was chipped a little on the side – just a little – but it was enough to kill a little part of him. he doesn't know anything about life or love or what he should be expecting in the future.

he understands that people don't expect him to just get over it. it's painful for him to just think about not getting the chance to say goodbye to his parents, but talking about it is another thing. keith remembers his mother telling him about communication, how important it is, her warm embrace, the smiles that always reached her eyes. he remembers his father's hand, gripping his tightly when he stayed with him after he came home from work, the games they always played and all his jokes.

he remembers all the good times, but all the bad times too, because that's all he has left. his mother's angry face, her happy face, her worried face. his father, hugging them and saying, 'i love you both so much.'

it hurts him so much and the confusion is too thick that makes him feel heavy with it. what is he supposed to do now?

when he turned fourteen, he learns that he likes boys. he doesn't even have any friends, but his fingers secretly tremble when he sees that cute classmate passing in front of him. butterflies and multitudinous insects seem to want to get away from his stomach whenever he laughs or talks. he doesn't particularly hate it, considering the fact that he hates other aspects of his life more, but he still wishes he liked girls.

he doesn't, though. he closes his eyes and looks away.

keith starts wearing fingerless gloves and doesn't care when he grows a mullet. just because he manages to distinguish his feelings doesn't mean he knows what to do or how to get over them. sometimes he searches for the similar confusion and insecurity in others for reassurance that he isn't alone.

when he turned seventeen, he started thinking about sleeping as 'drowning'. simply because sometimes he sinks, surrounded by darkness, he aims for the surface of the non-existent water, gasps, desperate for air and then he submerges again.

the waking up part is, on the other hand, way more galling. he'd rather stay asleep than leave his so-called room and pretend to be someone he's not.

he learns a lot about himself in this period of time. he doesn't like solitude, but he doesn't loathe it either. keith doesn't like to be contradicted and his temper is quick to appear, but he doesn't share his thoughts very often. he thinks a lot. he can't stop. he reads a lot and his room smells like old books; they're usually scattered everywhere. he finds peace in that mess.

he finds out that when he cries about something he ends up crying for all the things he has bottled up inside him.

when he turns eighteen, he gets a scholarship. the thing is, he can't really afford going to a college on his own – plus, the major he's in doesn't bother keith too much. so he settles for architecture.

he has a nice roommate, however, so maybe life's not that bad. his name is pidge and he's the smartest boy he's ever met. his desk is always full of sketches with cubes because _it's fun_ , he draws in his free time because he's bored and he finishes the project model they still have to do in two weeks in three days, drinking a greater number of coffee cups than the actual hours he slept.

at night, whenever he can't sleep, he just looks at the phosphorescent stars he put on the ceiling of his dorm. he glued them on that white surface because he thought they might help him sleep, but that's the opposite effect of what they're doing. he stares at them and thinks about everything.

he's mad at himself and at the world because how could they leave keith alone like that and that's usually the thought that lingers on his head for the rest of the time on the bad nights.

when he turns nineteen, he falls in love.

okay, scratch that – he's not sure what love is. but this doesn't stop him from trying to understand, because it feels different from all the books he's read and everything he's heard from anyone else. at first, he's not even sure he likes it.

in his first year in university, he decides he wants to earn his own money, even if he gets a small amount from his foster family. the only job that works for him is at a coffee shop and for the first time in his life he actually likes what he's doing. it's not the hardest task in the world, because he does, in fact, know how to make caffeinated drinks. it's some of the costumers that give keith headaches whom he's quite resentful towards. he doesn't mean to be this way, but he's not the most communicative and straightforward person.

he is at the register on a wednesday when he notices two guys looking at the menu shown up in front of them. the first one has brownish skin and dark hair along with a orange cloth tied around his forehead; he's got a friendly aura that he carries around. keith looks at the taller boy, then – short brown hair, blue eyes, tall and skinny figure – and internally screams for almost a minute before he speaks up.

"um, hello. is there anything i can help you with?" his voice is kind of funny while he plays with a napkin in his hands. and while it is great that he now has their attention, keith definitely looks anywhere but into those blue eyes.

he's attractive, but alas, keith doesn't really know anything about relationships and he's definitely out of this guy's league. that, if he's even gay.

"actually, yeah! that would be great." his eyes look at him for a second and then they flicker back to his friend's.

"i'll have a latte macchiato, please," he says after looking at his taller friend. "but this guy over here doesn't know what he's feeling like today so we're standing for almost three minutes straight looking at the menu just for him to decide."

keith almost whines, but it's not like it's something that didn't happen before.

"no worries, hunk, i know what i'll have, okay?" hunk just rolls his eyes in a quick motion and waits for his friend.

"what about a mocha? it has only coffee, chocolate and milk." keith says, getting anxious.

"no! i don't want anything with syrup and whipped cream. real men take their coffee black."

he's five seconds away from hitting his head against the nearest wall. he's stubborn, he quickly learns.

"maybe black coffee then...?" keith asks, hesitating a little, because damn, isn't this boy pretty? but at the same time he's getting a little on his nerves and he just wants to sleep in bed right now.

"wait a second," he says and both hunk and keith look at him simultaneously. "i'd recognize that mullet anywhere! i knew you looked familiar!"

keith touches his hair without noticing – what's wrong with his hair, anyway?

"who are you?"

"who am i? uh, the name's lance?" he waits for keith to acknowledge him, but that doesn't happen. "i see you all the time outside your dorm, you know, with pidge?"

"really? do you study architecture too?"

"no! i study art, but that's not important, okay. we are, like, rivals! you know, lance and keith, neck and neck."

something clicks in keith's mind – so he does, in fact, remember him, but he doesn't remember talking to him for more than one time. he doesn't even know how they are rivals.

"oh, wait. i remember you. you're pidge's friend, the one he's always bringing in our room when i'm not there." there's a little pause; he looks at the other costumers who were waiting impatiently behind lance and hunk. "so... black coffee?"

"fine, yes." lance says, at the same time when hunk reads, "pidge asks: are we still meeting in thirty minutes?"

keith already has his back turned to them and starts making the drinks. there's something specific about the smell of coffee that makes him want to move into this coffee shop (even if he's certainly sure he smells like that himself after his shift). he gently pours the espresso into the centre of the foam before he dusts the drink with a thin layer of chocolate. in less than two minutes he moves to the black coffee with the same determination.

"can you tell him to wait until i get my next break? you know, i do actually have morning classes on wednesday, unlike pidge."

hunk laughs. "he says and i quote: is this a secret code for a rendezvous during this break? oh, man, isn't he the best?"

keith places both of the cups on the counter at the same time as lance sets the bills in the same place the cups were at.

"so, lance and hunk?" he asks, just to make sure he knows them right. lance makes a dramatic noise, muffled by his hands, acting dumbfounded that keith didn't manage to remember his name. if he'd actually know the truth...

keith makes a move to give him the change, but they are already leaving.

"keep the change. hasta la later, mullet man!"

"don't call me that!" keith almost yells.

there is another costumer and another drink. after that, things get easier, routine-like, exactly how he expects his day to be.

 

–

 

love should be described the same as the seasons. spring, when everything starts to bloom: in the chest, in the heart, in everyone's eyes. when you cannot pretend anymore because of the fear, time is turned back and suddenly, it is winter. that's wrong about the unrequited love; it leaves a ceaseless abyss. love always appears when no one's ready, eating you alive like the butterflies that rest in one's stomach. they are transforming, growing, flying throughout the whole body, making the blood pump harder in veins, stir, spur, sensitize, but eventually and the most important, overflow. unrequited love breaks hearts. 

not even the massive crush he develops every time he sees that giant idiot doesn't change the fact that it isn't the reason for his anxiety. his fear doesn't start in a certain moment of his life and doesn't stop in another. sometimes it magnifies, soars until its maximum capacity, turns into a thunderstorm and then turns back to the initial point. if it's not stirred, the clouds appear just for them to be observed in a glance. they're just passing by.

the second time he meets lance, it's two weeks later, it's almost two a.m. and he's almost bawling his eyes out.

after five days (with pidge's help, of course) he finishes the model. he's actually surprised that it's done in time; just looking at it makes his chest fill with a warm feeling. he's happy and pleased with himself.

at the beginning of october they had their first studio class in a museum. basically, they had to understand the relevance between a concrete object and a traditional house. they started the model, a little house made out of wood, in the studio – and then they finished the rest as homework.

everything is perfect until... well, until everything goes wrong.

after leaving it on his wardrobe, near his t-square, he leaves for the coffee shop. the windows are open, even though the curtains are closed and doesn't make a big difference; he messages pidge to close them when he gets in their room. he's closing the shop tonight and that means a few costumers and more time to himself.

by the time he's back it's already pretty late; keith's tired and his greatest wish is to sleep for a whole day. his hair is tied in a half bun almost on top of his head thanks to the fact that he was so bored. it's pretty chilly outside for an autumn night; he clutches his red and white jacket tighter to retain heat as much as possible.

he gets to his floor in record time, but his fatigue and sleepiness go away in a second when he notices the mess on the carpet. pidge isn't anywhere in the room, but his model sure is, torn because of the impact with the floor. he's panicking as soon as he remarks the state of the roof pidge made; it's damaged, its wood pieces bent.

the first thing that crosses his mind is _holy shit, this is homework, this is mandatory, i'm going to fail this class_ , because does effort really matter if in the end you've got nothing to prove what you've done? keith's phone battery is at 3% but he calls pidge instead of charging his phone because that kid knows what to do in every situation and he doesn't and that's why he's bad at everything. he can't shake the panicky feeling he has in his throat when he picks up the wood pieces on top of his ruined model. he places it on the desk and finally closes the window like it should have been closed before he left, even though his lungs scream at him to get more fresh air.

pidge doesn't answer and keith doesn't call twice this time; he hates phone calls, anyway. he suppresses a sob with the back of his hand and finally moves away from the floor to get away from this room, because he'll have a panic attack if he doesn't leave. he's disappointed, overall, at him for thinking this would go different than usual.

he wipes off his teary face when he opens the door to get out. there's lance at the end of the hall and he turns the other way around, so he doesn't see how much of a mess he is in this moment.

"keith!" lance calls. oh shit.

now he really can't stop crying, just because he knows he can't allow lance to see him like this. he doesn't even know keith, they barely met! there's no way he can turn back and talk to him normally; on top of that, the stairs are behind the person he's running away from, so he has no choice but to slow down.

"just slow up, will you?"

and keith does, but it's his mind that's everywhere at once, making him dizzy. he sucks in a breath and makes sure his face is looking as normal as possible before he looks back. not in lance's eyes, but more like where he stands. he's wearing a denim jacket and black jeans and somehow they match with him so well.

"hi, lance." keith finally says. even if he didn't wait that long for his response, keith still feels like shit, because now he has lance in front of him and he didn't realize he missed his voice so much until he actually met him again. "i was just, um..."

"so you finally decided to show yourself, cool," lance starts. "dude, are you okay?"

despite feeling like his heart is going to explode in his chest and hearing his heartbeat in his ears, he lies. "yeah."

lance looks a little strange at him, something that shows keith how bad of a liar he is. he knows the skin around his eyes tends to get red, especially under his eyebrows. that's incovenient, considering the fact that his skin is pale all the time and anyone can see when he has been crying.

"wanna come in?" lance asks with his hands burried inside his jacket's pockets. maybe he doesn't want to be here. maybe he will go away.

"it's my room, shouldn't i be the one asking you this?" keith skeptically looks at him.

"well, i have a key, so..."

"oh my god, why would pidge give you a key." keith looks at him for a few moments, taking in his hair, his eyes, his lips – he definitely didn't stare longer than he usually would at them. "and, by the way, it's not locked."

his hand has already found its way to the doorknob when he remembers that his homework is still on the desk. he averts his eyes and keeps thinking about how easy was to talk to lance. now, inside his dormitory, he feels trapped again.

"it's so clean in here, i don't get how you even manage to... oooh, is that yours?" lance points out at the little house in front of him. he gets closer, as if it's anything but broken.

keith nods. "pidge's on his own desk, if you want to see his project too."

"i already saw it." he looks at keith and keith swears his hands are sweating just from staying this close to lance in the same room, the two of them, together. "it looks good, but this," he touches the roof, "is kinda bent? is it supposed to look like that?"

keith sits on his bed. he will start crying again and he doesn't want lance to see. or anybody, for that matter. he doesn't want to be a disappointment, crying for a project – even if his anxiety and sadness doesn't really come from that alone.

lance notices. of course he does; and he doesn't even know keith. but he's closing the distance between them by sitting on the bed next to him, anyway.

"when's the deadline?" lance (softly?) asks.

"in a few hours," keith answers.

"oh, shit. okay, dude. here's what you'll do." he looks at keith with a look full of determination. "you can finish this thing. i don't have morning classes today, i can help you if you want."

"you can't. it's made from balsa." his tears blur everything together in a distorted image of his room.

"the fuck is that?" lance almost laughs.

"it's just wood, but i ran out of it a few days ago." keith doesn't want to talk about it anymore; or, at least, not when his heart might stop any minute now. "and it doesn't need to be finished, it should be fixed. pidge helped me finish it."

"well, how do you do that?"

"i don't know!" keith suddenly looks at him and raises his voice. "why are you here, anyway? we're rivals, you said so yourself. you can't just go in here whenever you feel the need to, hoping that you'd find pidge and do whatever you want. just because you don't have morning classes today, it doesn't mean that you can wander in here and piss me off!"

he knows he's not playing fair when the last sentence is already said. keith feels guilty and maybe it shows, because lance brushes him off.

"do you want to mend that thing or not?" he asks, frowning a little. "if you stay where you are you ain't going to make progress. what's done cannot be undone."

lance gets up and keith looks at him. it's strange, looking into someone else's eyes. it's always been like that and he blames the anxiety for it. but lance's got the most bluest eyes he's ever seen and, while it's hard to look into them, it's also hard not to.

"i..."

"man, you look like you need some fresh air." he looks as if he means to talk more, but closes his mouth instead.

it takes a moment in which keith looks mindful of the white curtains for him to decide without taking it too much into consideration. normally, he would think about it until his mind will transfer into another places; but he doesn't feel like himself right now.

"yeah, okay." he says calmly.

he hesitates.

"you still going, keith?"

he looks one more time at the desk, and then up.

"you know it."

they exit the building together and keith keeps distance between them as though afraid propinquity might lead him into thinking about lance, again. everything is silent between and around them for a few seconds, but then lance speaks with confidence.

"i feel like you're not really the talking type," lance begins. "but that's okay. i can do the talking for the both of us. at home, everyone used to tell me how talkative i was, getting from one topic to another in a matter of minutes. it's a gift and a curse at the same time, trust me."

"no, i talk," keith says. "i just don't know what to talk about."

"how about... i tell you how i met pidge and hunk? maybe something blooms in your head after that."

"i can start." he watches their shadows, how their legs move in a perfect synchrony, the surroundings being illuminated by the street lamps above them. "i met you and hunk the day you showed up at the café."

"best day of your life, i suppose."

keith just stares at him, a little sluggish; lance just looks back at him, smiling with his teeth showing. sometimes, it feels as if it's obvious. just looking at this perfect boy who wears hoodies and still manages to look good in them, whose smile is so big that the skin under his eyes wrinkle a little, who can express himself through a pencil on a paper. maybe it is.

"and i met pidge a few weeks ago when i first stepped into my dorm room. that's it."

"pidge told us about you the first time he saw you," lance tells him. "but i think it was a few months ago, after that exam in spring?"

"i failed that one," keith laughs at the memory. months before the real exam, highschoolers come to test their knowledge in a similar approach. their results didn't count at all, but keith still had a meltdown.

"at least you got in. so, me, hunk and pidge met online. at the time, i was super obsessed with animes, especially attack on titan, which you definitely need to see if you haven't already. but i also loved to draw and i guess it's a passion i had ever since i was a toddler, drawing on agendas my father bought me. pidge and hunk were also drawing on that website, we shared our yahoo messenger ids and became friends. our drawing skills sucked, but it was really fun."

"you can show me what you draw, if you still do," keith says.

"i... i do," lance looks a little bit taken aback. "but it'd be easier to show you my assignments in my studio class."

"you study art?"

"yeah! didn't i tell you already?" lance exclaims, looking at keith suddenly. "it's – wait, there's a supermarket there," he says, orienting his index finger in that way.

"yeah," keith mutters, furrowing his eyebrows, "it is."

lance runs, almost making keith trip; once he follows and they're inside, lance leads them to the dairy products department.

"i can't buy anything, lance," he speaks. "i don't have any money with me and i'm lactose intolerant."

"wh-what?" his head spins so quickly to look at keith that he's sure his neck hurts a little. "so you've never tried a milkshake?"

"yeah, dumbass, that means i've never tried a milkshake."

lance clears his voice. "okay, i'll make sure to remember that. but, it wasn't my intention to buy food for you to eat. it's a replacement for your wood... i forgot what it's called, sorry."

"balsa."

"exactly that. you can redo the roof with..." lance turns his face to the shelves, gesticulating dramatically to the different kinds of cheese that are displayed in front of them, "cheese!"

"oh my god." keith covers his face with his hands while he shakes his head. "where did that even come from?"

"well, you obviously have no other alternative."

lance smiles. it's exhilarating.

 

–

 

being kind of a joke at first, he doesn't know if he feels ashamed of his project or not. pidge looks impressed. lance says it's the best thing he's ever done in the morning and his professor looks pretty amused by his creativity, giving him an eight.

 

–

 

after that things become somewhat easier. keith's still working at the coffee shop, descriptive geometry is slowly killing him, but his free time is limited and that means he doesn't have time for himself. personally, keith feels better under pressure – he thinks faster, has a better schedule for everything. but lance keeps pissing keith off, and he may not realize it sometimes. despite their bonding moment a few weeks ago, lance seems to be the same boy who is annoying him all the time. 

but... his eyes constantly find him. they search him in a sea of people, cherishing his face's features: the blue of his eyes, his subtle smile, his smile in general. he apreciates his voice. his sense of humor isn't everyone's cup of tea, but he'd listen to lance laughing everyday.

he discovers, one day, in between his shift, that lance's native language isn't english, but spanish. which is fine, considering the fact that keith's korean, but the way spanish rolls off his tongue takes him by surprise.

they're sitting at a table when keith comes by in his one hour break. he brings them their drinks, making sure that he has one of his own (he found out that hiding his face just by sipping from a mug works perfectly). he isn't paying enough attention – mostly thinking about homework while hunk and pidge talk about imagine dragons when lance's phone rings.

(his ringtone is by charli xcx. could have been worse.)

he's not even listening at first.

"me pasé todo el día yendo de la ceca a la meca para encontrar un regalo especial para mi hermano, pero al final no lo encontré, mamá."

"yep, there he goes," pidge scoffs. "talking in spanish so we can't find out what embarrassing things he's saying to his mother."

"he thinks spanish is his secret weapon," hunk says, "but it ain't going to last for that long."

hunk and pidge continue to talk until lance mimics silently with his free hand for them to just shut up, without getting the result he wants in the end.

"¡te llamaré más tarde si quieres hablar! ¡te quiero!" lance exclaims and ends the call. "don't i hate both of you."

"if i were you, i'd worry about those projects instead of hating the people that at least tolerate you," pidge laughs. hunk plays with his straw, making different designs with the foam topping.

keith looks at lance's profile again and he can't stop. not when he's so him in this exact moment. there's a certain kind of pleasantness to his face, but keith can't decipher why. it's something that touches his heart, makes him melt a little. the straight line of his jaw, his bangs, his slight upturn his nose has, his lips...

it's as if he's dreaming, looking at him. he doesn't want it to stop.

"keith? keeeeith. keith! hello!" someone flashes a hand in front of his face and he blinks suddenly. he looks at hunk, realizing now that he is the one who has called him earlier.

"i just called your name three times, man. are you alright?" hunk asks.

keith blinks a few more times and looks at them, somehow confused. the three of them watch him – hunk concerned, pidge thoughtful and lance amused. oh, shit.

"he's been like that since lance's mom called."

"i'm so fancy, you already know..." hunk sings under his breath.

"i don't like it," keith says first, before lance can start with his rambling about his taste in music. which... is kind of a lie, honestly. he doesn't necessarily like the songs lance listens to, but he would listen to them if that meant having him talk about rihanna or shakira with a passionate voice and a cute smile on his face.

"good thing no one asked you, then," lance responds, looking a little offensed. "you're probably just obsessed with your emo songs and can't see the awesomeness charli has in her music."

keith rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his own drink. he definitely doesn't listen to the pop music that everyone likes on the radio. but that's just because he doesn't think that music genre fits him. he either likes slow and quiet songs, like acoustic covers and indie folk, or... loud. rapid. alternative, punk rock. full of emotions. that's how he is, deep inside.

"ugh," lance wails, "i have two projects due to the end of this week and i haven't even made one sketch. i haven't even opened my notebook. i don't even know what i'm supposed to draw."

"do you even have a notebook?" hunk asks. "cause i don't remember you having one. at all. your notes are written on sketch papers."

"i do!" lance protests. he doesn't look very convincing, though.

"sometimes i wonder how did you even manage to study this." pidge laughs under his breath; keith is curious, but doesn't ask anything.

"because i'm smart?" lance says it in a way that sounds more like a question. "no. that didn't sound right." he coughs dramatically. "because i'm smart! i'm really observant and talented and i learn quickly enough to be where i am."

"you sound as if you're trying to convince yourself." keith remarks.

"oh, he does, in a way," hunk says. "he's good, but he would be better if he actually studied. i mean, pidge already knows. but keith hasn't seen his portraits yet."

lance gets a little abashed at that.

"i'm trying to find my own style. and i draw everyday!"

"that's what everyone expects from you. and it won't happen unless, you know, you do your assignments?" pidge says. everyone can tell he doesn't scold lance, but he isn't fully proud of him either.

"buddy, there isn't something wrong with drawing everyday what you like. it's very good, actually, if i'm being honest. people find inspiration in a lot of stuff and i wish i could do the things you do."

"i guess so."

"right, sometimes i forget you're allergic to praise." hunk laughs and soon pidge joins.

their friendship is... comfortable. healthy. it's something keith isn't accustomed to, mostly because he has shut everyone down for a long time. but seeing pidge, his passion for this major and their close frienship despite the strange way of showing it... it warms his heart, a little. and then a little more, just by seeing lance. he radiates of happiness and has a certain radiance, everything keith isn't.

looking now, keith sees how they don't fit. it's standing out. the thought stays and makes him cringe a little – it's not like they had a chance before. he hates getting too close; however, they aren't making him uneasy.

keith tries to distance himself from the current situation. talking didn't make him feel better until now, so why did everything change so suddenly? he craves for the way small words can change his day, especially lance's words. a small part of him hates that. not just the fact that they're lance's, but the whole talking part. he feels good until he doesn't, all the things he said or did coming to him like a waterfall when he is alone. depending on whatever that is, they leave a certain sensation in his head and in his mouth. sometimes, words can be like food.

good moods come and go and fortunately, the same happens with the bad ones.

he arrives in his and pidge's dorm room a little after nine with a lump in his throat, feeling anxious. pidge is eating when he opens the door, greeting him as soon as he can see his face.

"hi, keith," he says, closing the notebook placed in front of him. "i left some for you too."

he motions for the open box of pizza near him, but keith politely declines. "i don't really feel like eating right now," he admits while he is making his way to his bed and taking a clean towel with him. "i'll take a shower, you can eat the rest of the pizza. i don't mind."

he smiles, so pidge doesn't ask him any questions about how does he feel. "mmmkay." he still looks a little suspicious, but that's okay – he will take this too if he doesn't have anything else.

he makes sure to lock the door before he arranges everything. here, while he is staying alone between these four walls, he feels a little bit better, like he can be whatever he wants. or currently needs. and, at the moment, he needs something to grasp so he doesn't drown.

his shower thoughts aren't pretty. he's mostly talking shit about himself and his previous actions... and lance, oh, lance. he isn't particularly happy how his life turned out to be. when he was little, he used to look up to teenagers from tv shows just because they looked cool and sometimes having the time of their lives. but... reality isn't like that. his reality doesn't work this way.

he doesn't like the stares; they make him feel as if he doesn't belong here.

in reality, he truly is a selfish person, because he craves the attention, even if it makes him want to crawl into his bed sometimes. it's... not something he's used to, for starters. he likes quiet places, but solitude is a horrible thing, even if it has followed him everywhere he went his entire life.

sometimes, when he hugs his legs in the bathtub, with his chin placed on both of his knees, keith thinks about all of the words he said, will say or never had the chance to say. it's something that eats him from inside – the lump in his throat, the pain in his chest, growing and growing with every beating of his heart.

every night, he thinks about how he wants to distance himself from everyone. from lance, mostly. pidge doesn't bother him too much about his personal life, but lance does, on a daily basis. while it is very nice to hear about how big of a family he has and how excited he is to see them at the end of every month, there's a guilty feeling everytime he speaks. lance expects him to open up, to be his friend, his partner... but keith doesn't want to. getting closer to lance feels like getting closer to fire in the middle of january: warms his skin, his face, leaves him with a trembling, tingling sensation, but also starts to burn after some time.

he's getting there. he considers his heart almost at the point of melting; his insides are already full with emotion. that's why it can't continue – he is not good at hiding his emotions, to be honest, that being one of his problems. there's... too much thinking about lance every single day.

he's scared and he wants that to stop. but he's felt that way for a long time, before he can even remember what a crush felt like and that only made it worse.

he finds his right hand in his air and for a second he just. looks. at his long fingers and nails that he doesn't really take care of but still keeps them short, at how strange and pale it shows when he doesn't wear his gloves. then he decides he wants a cold shower.

his breaths are deep, but he finds it soothing. it somehow anchors him to the ground, doesn't let him choke.

hardly did he ever think that doing the things you love can be harder than they used to be. basic things, even. he was once afraid of not living his life to the fullest. once, when his dad made them go on little summer trips all over america in different cities every year. sleeping in different locations every night, eating ice cream on a god-forgotten mountain road, looking at nishikigoi banks, listening to old music in their car. maybe that's what keith misses the most: the subtle feeling of someone looking over him.

his hands cover his eyes for a minute while cold water falls upon his head, his arms, his shoulders, his back. this way he can't tell which droplet on his face are tears. he wipes them anyway.

he feels a little bit selfish again. when he was little, he used to think about how everything sucked. that maybe if he'd be older, everything would be different. it is, but it doesn't necessarily mean that it's better. growing up isn't something you have to wish. it comes even if you want or not, but isn't it a waste not to cherish what you have in front of your eyes? he wasn't prepared to be alone then and he certainly isn't right now. he needs other people, but he keeps pushing everyone away.

when he is out of the bath he looks in the mirror: his hair is wet, sticking to his face and his eyes are red. he's trembling and sad and he should be doing his descriptive geometry homework instead of crying like a baby in a bathtub.

there is something heavy inside his chest, making keith anxious about everything. with shaking fingers he dresses himself and sits on the toilet for a while, just breathing. everything in his body screams anxiety but he manages to make it less obvious because when he enters their room again, pidge doesn't act like he knows.

he doesn't sleep at all after that.

a few weeks go on and he finds himself in a strange situation. he's done with procrastinating, with looking outside the window at the pavement and sometimes seeing lance with hunk and pidge. he's done looking in the mirror at his features and his flaws.

he is aware of how unhappy he is, of how he needs a change in his life. but nothing makes him more anxious than going to class and having to talk to people. what's scary is that he slowly gets used to pidge and hunk and lance in his life. socializing has never been his forte, but it seems that they don't care about that as long as you respect them and know how to have fun (at least, that's what lance says). does that mean that lance finds him a guy who knows how to have fun?

does that even change anything? he still hates friendship between more than two people. and while everything is perfect in their big relationship, he still wishes him and lance were together. like, hand holding, kissing, taking each other on dates together.

at the same time, it's scary. it scares keith and it does weird things to his heart and stomach and face, making him more nervous and anxious than usual.

but then... wouldn't that ruin their friendship? or everyone's friendship? he's at least 95% sure nothing will happen, but god, he hopes not.

hunk tells them one day about how bad he misses the friday nights he spent with them. (keith almost asks, _is it because of me? because i am an intruder_? but he doesn't, because it's hard to think it's the truth.) the next friday, lance invites them to altea, which is, apparently, the "greatest place you'll ever put your foot in, keith!". their look makes him feel guilty. a little. but he can't forget about his homework anymore, leaving it on the last day and receiving an eight on cheese sculpting.

"no." keith promptly says. "i can't."

"no, keith, you have to." and then lance is giving him the best puppy eyes he has ever seen, leaving keith's heart to jump and almost get away, out of his ribcage.

"i have projects to work on!" keith complains.

"look, we're not pushing you or anything," hunk tells him, "but it will be fun. we can get to know each other a lot better."

"are you seriously giving him this argument?" pidge says and then moves to look at keith. "first of all, lance will be drunk by midnight; that ain't pretty, i assure you –"

"if you don't mind me correcting that –"

"oh, but i do mind. let me finish! second of all, i'm pretty sure keith isn't the clubbing type. it's just... sweaty and drunk people dancing and trying to act cool."

"i have a high tolerance to alcohol." lance says.

"no, you don't," hunk speaks. "but we love you anyway."

"aww, thanks," lance cooes over hunk's words. "so, what do you say? did we change your mind or anything?"

 _not really_ , keith thinks.

"it'll be funnier without me," he says instead.

"nooooo," lance cries. "don't do that. we'll manage to have fun without you, but, for the record, we want you there. with us. don't even try to think we don't want to."

keith wants to think lance meant to say, _i want you there, with me._

he looks away from their eyes. why is he such a loner? he's nineteen. he should have friends, go to the cinema, watch tv shows in his free time. have a relationship, be happy. he's currently having a crush on a boy he doesn't know entirely and that scares him a lot. but what if... what if he isn't the only one scared of rejection. maybe lance meant, "don't even think i don't want to."

you're asking way too much 'what if'... well, what if you just didn't care?

"okay."

spontaneous decisions are always the best. he remembers tenth grade as something he'll never be able to forget. something irreplaceable, a ray of sunshine in his heart and life. scented candles, quiet music, books, no actual worries about anything in particular.

his class activity has been always bad. he never answers anything until he's asked to, never raises his hand.

his math teacher was a peculiar person. at the end of the school year, she used to give them lessons to learn and then teach the whole class. he was so nervous at first; he thought a lot about how good it will feel to skip that class for a few days.

but he didn't, not really. he practiced everything in front of his mirror for a week and learned it word to word. he had prepared everything. in the end, even if it was embarrassing, he didn't stutter or miss anything, because he had the words glued in his mind and the whole activity wasn't that bad. he learned that there is no one who looks at him in a strange way and that it is hard to be a teacher. sometimes, just knowing won't solve entirely something, though.

the club isn't his favorite place to be. it's too messy, too hot, the atmosphere is generally too heavy for him to handle. but lance seems to be having the time of his life while dancing with hunk. three shots of tequila later, he's still the same. because of his perky personality and his jocund lifestyle, it isn't that big of a difference between his behaviors. keith somehow knows. it's the same guy who kept him company in that cold autumn night, making him feel better.

he's something else. his moves are casual and sensual. lance is full of himself.

keith sits on a settee in the back, his right hand holding a cup filled with something non-alcoholic, propped on his right knee. he's tapping his feet on the floor. pidge is nowhere to be seen, but he is pretty sure he is somewhere near them, talking to someone. if there is a person in their group who needed this kind of distraction, pidge's name would show up automatically.

lance comes back to where keith is seated a few minutes after taking another drink. he practically launches next to him, making keith flinch a little, lost in his thoughts.

"whatcha got in there?" lance asks, slightly getting closer to him. keith pretends not to notice, but something in his stomach makes him want to get some fresh air.

"i believe it's called pina colada?" keith almost asks. he has to get his mouth close to lance's ear, smelling his perfume in the process.

"are you kidding me?" lance makes a funny face. "no, you can't get drunk with rum. i'll go get you something stronger."

"maybe i'm not planning on getting drunk."

his breath smells like alcohol and it makes him feel dizzy from the proximity of them. his throat feels hot as if he consumed the last drink lance had. it doesn't feel right to stay so close to him when he can't hold him, hold his hands, embrace him. he's like holding his breath, waiting for something to happen.

"you don't plan it, mullet. you feel good and you show it. that's why you need to drink, you're really tense."

"no, let's –" his words get stuck in his mouth, but there's an idea forming in his head. "i'll go to hunk. he'll get me something."

he's already getting up when lance calls out his next words. "okay, be quick!"

keith doesn't look back, because if he did, he would come back in an instant. instead, he makes his way to his friend, looking everywhere at every person dancing on the dance floor. the songs are noisy and too commercial for his liking; dancing is more like twisting, turning, twirling. he gets a little scared that he's not going to find lance back, that he will get away with a girl in the bathroom.

hunk is sitting in a bar stool talking to a girl, laughing at something she said, judging by the way she was gesticulating with her hands in the air. still, keith crosses his way through the crowd, getting closer to them; hunk notices him pretty fast and doesn't look irritated at all.

"i need a favor!" keith screams in his ear, loud enough for him to hear. hunk gets, somehow, closer to him, so keith continues his idea. "can you get me something non-alcoholic? or... something like that?"

"you want another drink?" hunk asks.

"i need something that looks like alcohol. preferably without alcohol in it." he kind of hopes that hunk gets what he means by that.

hunk just nods and turns his back to talk to the bartender, leaving keith with a light feeling in his chest. maybe he wants to remember talking to lance and everything he said instead of having a blank space in his mind. (not that he ever experimented that.) he wants to know how he looks like under the shadows and lights and how his lips forms the smile he adores.

he thanks hunk after he receives the drink; it's something sweet, like berries and mint in a glass similar to lance's. a subtle warm starts to bloom in his throat, a pleasant buzz that makes him want to drink more. it's good. slightly alcoholic, but he won't get drunk from one drink, he'll just loosen up a little, which is what he needs at the moment.

finding lance is another experience he has to live. in his rush to find hunk, he forgot where he left lance: all the sofas look the same. with a drink in his hand and with his phone in the other his eyes move unsystematically around the room, seeing silhouettes that mean nothing to him. there's just one person waiting for him and he won't make him wait. his shoulders bump into other persons and he almost falls once, but he regains equilibrium in a matter of seconds before he sees lance.

lance is stretched out exactly where he left him, in the settee with one of his arms extended, as if he would wait for keith to come and embrace him and the other holding an empty glass. he's got his eyes closed, his phone on his thigh, until keith settles down next to him.

"i've died while waiting for you," he gets dramatic. "it's been 84 years..."

"at least i found the way back," keith rolls his eyes even though he isn't annoyed at all. "you're quiet."

usually, lance would start commenting about something, but his drink is now on the table in front of them. he twists his phone in his hand nervously, almost anxiously and that makes keith wonder if lance is as afraid as he is.

"i need some fresh air. you coming too?"

he doesn't need to be asked twice. they exit the club together through the main entrance, leaving their drinks behind. keith fumbles with his phone inside his jacket pocket, being tempted to see how late it is. the sky is clear and it reminds him of the night when they got out to get cheese for his project, but this feels a lot different.

keith leans against the wall when lance speaks. "so... i talked to mamá and it kinda ruined my vibe."

he chews his lower lip in thought of what he should say. "what did she say?"

"she's not happy with me coming here. she's never been. it was my mistake, really, i should have left to talk to her and come back. but i thought you'll come and think that i left for good and, i don't know, feel bad? so i just answered and i couldn't really understand anything but she sounded angry at myself. mostly because i don't listen to her advice anymore and she's worried and you probably don't want to hear this."

keith squats so he is on the same eye level with lance. "no, continue, i really don't mind."

lance looks at him and does exactly that. "i'd probably start rambling soon, but anyway. i really miss home. i guess i never realised how good everything was there until i finished highschool, because you never know how hard it is to look after yourself until you have to, you know?" he doesn't. "i just think that she doesn't trust me with this. i get that, it's scary to live in a foreign country, but i can make good decisions too! i don't come here until i get really stressed to have fun with pidge and hunk. plus, you're here too, now. you're responsible, she would definitely like you better."

keith is shit at talking about families and problems in general, he can barely maintain his life himself. but having lance in front of him, telling what he feels, that scares him and makes him excited at the same time.

"she's not going to like anyone better than you, lance. well, except maybe if you have siblings. then it's going to be between you and them and she'll like every one of you the same, i'm sure of that."

"i know! sometimes it doesn't feel like it, though."

"tell her that, then."

"she'll tell me that isn't true."

"just because it isn't true, it doesn't mean that you don't need reassurance. i think it's completely normal."

"it is." lance looks up at the stars and sighs. "i guess i'm scared too because she didn't like the idea of me studying art in the first place. she was like, i don't understand why you would want to do something easy –" he pauses at that, "or meaningless just to finish it quickly and start a monotone life. what does that even mean, to begin your life? it seems to me like you lose a lot of the right you had once to pretend that you don't give a fuck. now, everything is in your own hands, you're supposed to give a fuck.

so, you get your own money. okay, that probably gives you a sense of accomplishment, but other than that? everyone just rushes to grow up to find out that it's... hard, man! growing up sucks and i sometimes miss everything i used to do as a kid. drawing as a kid was all right. but not as a teen.

i'm wondering why we don't face college because that's what we really want and not just because this is what everyone is facing? i love what i'm doing and it makes me really happy, but it really pains me to think that it doesn't make her happy too."

keith bites his tongue, hard, however, he stops before he can feel the taste of blood. lance's confession leaves him a little bitter. suddenly, keith feels a little selfish, because even if it was irrational, he thought lance's family was perfect until this moment.

"what?" lance asks, his eyes focusing on keith's now; there's something specific and distinguished about his voice. they don't look necessarily close, but the way lance speaks sounds like there's some kind of friendship between them, like they know each other very well.

"nothing, i just..." keith searches for the right words to use. "the way you always spoke to your mother on the phone, i thought there was nothing like that between the two of you."

lance scoffs. "families aren't perfect, keith."

"i suppose i know that now."

"what, don't you have arguments sometimes with your parents? i know for a fact that i'm not the only one."

keith is a bit taken aback at the question, so he lies. it's more like a reflex this time, lying to people. "yeah."

lance looks at him for two seconds, almost sensing something wrong. he doesn't push it any further, even if he does. "so... why architecture?"

keith stares at his shoes, hoping that lance won't see how his face burns. or how his stomach is invaded with butterflies, or how his heart is doing weird things to him. "well... i've been drawing since i was a little kid, more or less than any other. it was a constant thing in my life, always. shortly after i realised that drawing is more than a hobby for me, i decided that it's going to be what i'll do for the rest of my life."

"yeah, but you could've applied for art college."

"i could?" keith scratches the back of his head in a nervous manner. it sounds almost like a question, like he's not sure of it himself. "i know. i don't think i'm cut for that. anyway, i had to come to terms with the difference between a dream, a love for a domain and what i have to do in life in order to support myself. one of them is abstract and diaphanous, the other is pragmatic. the two don't necessarily need to overlap perfectly."

lance hums. "i still think you could do it. whatever makes you happy, man."

keith leaves the topic like that. he is surprised that lance didn't insist... maybe he isn't that type of person at all. then, what kind of person is he?

"why wasn't your mom asleep?" keith asks. maybe he's just trying to make small talk with lance, but his voice is really nice and he wants to hear more of it. he wants to know him and if lance wants to be just friends he'll take that too.

"my family lives in cuba," lance says. "i told her where i was going, she told me not to. i still did, as you can see."

keith makes a guttural noise from the back of his throat, as if to approve him.

"hey, how come i don't have your number? even pidge has it!" lance exclaims, looking at him expectantly.

"i – uh..." keith tries to find his words. is this lance asking for his number? _i honestly didn't know you wanted to talk to me. i like you so much i would probably talk too much or too little and i'd probably regret most of the things i'd say. i just want you to like me back._

he hands his phone to keith for him to add his own number in. thank god, at least he's aware of how awkward it would've been for him if he wouldn't have known it. he puts his own name there, keith, simple and without any emojis. 

"thanks!" lance smiles to himself, looking down at his phone display. "should we go now?"

"i mean, sure?" lance gets up, helping keith too by offering a hand.

"don't you have to go in a different direction, though?" keith asks when they start walking together on the same path.

"true, the altean dorms aren't near yours," he admits.

 

–

 

 **unknown number** [3:03 am]

thank you for signing up for random facts and thoughts! you will now receive facts on every topic <every> day!

 **keith** [3:05 am] 

what

 

 **unknown number** [3:05 am]

if one spells out numbers, they would have to count to one thousand before coming across the letter a

an iguana can stay under water for 28 minutes

 **keith** [3:21]

...

 

 **unknown number** [3:44]

the muzzle of a lion is like a fingerprint. no two lions have the same pattern of whiskers.

 **keith** [3:47]

is this lance?

even if this isn't lance, you should go to sleep, stop messaging me at 4 am.

 

 **unknown number** [3:50]

the one & only!

 **keith** [3:50]

go to sleep.

 **lance** [3:51]

i have to finish this project i haven't even started and it's due today i am so screwed

 **keith** [3:52]

why did you wait until the last minute, you idiot?

 **lance** [3:52]

i have no idea

i don't know how to st a r t

the main theme is conceptual art and ik i can draw whatever comes to my mind it's just that

i can't function

but at the same time

i'm

aware?? that i should be finished already

 **keith** [3:53]

i have no idea what that is.

at this hour i can't think of anything else besides a painting palette but instead of colors it's egg yolks

 **lance** [3:55]

won't it look like i finished it in 30 mins

 **keith** [3:56]

either way, it'll be better than nothing. you're creative and bold enough to do it from what i've heard.

 **lance** [4:01]

thank you.

 

 

"who were you texting last night?" pidge asks while they're getting ready for classes. keith is pretty sure his face looks terrifying because of the lack of sleep so he doesn't even bother look in the mirror when he splashes some water onto it. he puts his hair in a bun and takes his storage tube. "or... should i say this morning?"

"just lance," he says after a few seconds, making sure not to look in pidge's eyes in the process.

"how come?" pidge asks suspiciously. "as far as i could tell five seconds ago, you two can't even breathe near each other."

"he needed help with a project." keith exits their room, leaving his roommate to close the door and lock it. plus, his face is burning and he doesn't want pidge to see that.

"typical. that's all you talked? his project?"

"after he sent me some super random facts that i didn't ask for, yeah." _is it obvious? god, i hope not._

"oh my god, he did that?" pidge laughs.

keith just nods and tightens his grip on his storage tube where his homework lays (he almost worships it after the balsa incident). another day, another sleep deprived keith walking like a zombie in the studio and in the cafe.

 

–

 

he's holding a pencil on top of a piece of paper, thinking about the intersections of irregular polyhedrons when lance shows up. it's pretty late for a night visit so he just looks at him a little skeptical, not sure if he's here with a good purpose or not.

"hello," he greets keith once he's in front of him.

"hi."

keith puts the pencil down and brushes his hands on his apron because god, he's nervous already.

"can we talk?" lance asks and for the first time since they have met he looks nervous. he's got a look on his face that exposes how he feels; that makes keith feel like it's his own fault, that maybe lance found out his feelings and he's done with him. maybe he doesn't want to have anything to do with homosexuals because he's straight and now everything is weird between them.

"my shift ends in an hour, so if you're willing to wait..." he starts, unsure.

"what if i can't wait for that long?"

"tell me now, then," keith gesticulates with both hands to show him that there's no one in the room. this kind of privacy scares him.

"i guess i'll start simply by saying thank you."

"there's no need. you also helped me with my project, it's only fair that i did the same for you..."

lance holds a hand to stop him. "let me finish, please?" he places them on the counter and leans forward as keith nods. "i don't know a lot about you, just that you have such a horrible haircut." at that, keith narrows his eyes, not getting where the conversation is going. "you're unpredictable and i know this even though i have zero knowledge about you. like, nothing at all, null, cero..."

"what are you saying, lance?" keith asks because he's more than aware that he doesn't open up to people and there's no need to hear it from someone else. it's almost as if he would hear that the sun is hot. (everyone knows that.) and that's exactly how his impulsivity works.

"i'm saying that i'm shaking right now," he shoves his right hand in front of keith's eyes to prove his point. "and that my heart beats really fast, especially when i talk or am with you."

keith starts shaking a little himself. "don't you understand? i like you."

words die in his throat; he's a fish on a dry surface. he can't believe what he's hearing, mostly because he was so sure it'll never happen.

"really?" keith asks out of bewilderment. without his consent, his lips turn upwards forming a real smile, never taking his eyes off of lance as he nods. they look at each other gravely for a few seconds, some overused lofi hip hop beats creating the atmosphere between them.

"yeah, and i'm hoping that... maybe... you feel the same for me?"

"i do."

both lance and keith look relieved with red and embarrassed faces, so keith looks away.

"anyway. i also came to get a maple latte." normal lance is back with full force and that makes keith laugh.

"you done with all that black coffee?" keith asks as he starts to pour milk and espresso into a mug. "i'd never have guessed you for a syrup type of man."

"ah, won't you shut up."

as he stirs in the maple syrup and the vanilla extract keith takes his time to look at lance. this boy who likes him back without knowing about his issues and who has issues himself, who tries his best to please his family and his friends, shines everyday through his bright personality.

"how should i call you?" he playfully asks with a marker in his hand, likewise to the first time they officially met, when he wanted to be sure he knew correctly.

"just lance will be fine for now," he answers. "but you can call me anytime you want, baby."

keith's insides melt and then shake with the force of a tsunami.

"i will."

he's nineteen and in love and for the first time in a long period full of monotony, his brain thinks that feelings are so good he can't get enough of them.

**Author's Note:**

> “me pasé todo el día yendo de la ceca a la meca para encontrar un regalo especial para mi hermano, pero al final no lo encontré, mamá.” – “i spent all day running around trying to find a special gift for my brother, but, in the end, i didn’t find one, mom.”
> 
> “¡te llamaré más tarde si quieres hablar! ¡te quiero!” – “i’ll call you later if you want to talk! i love you!”
> 
> –
> 
> it means a lot to me if you reached this far so thank you for reading!! <3
> 
> links: [tumblr](http://blksyx.tumblr.com) | [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/volaentis/)  
> or stalk my cat’s [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/domnularhitect/)


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